


Projections

by Anonymous



Category: Archer (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27630086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Archer still thinks he’s in a comaCyril has bad timing
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20
Collections: Anonymous





	Projections

**Author's Note:**

> This is really short and sad, so if you wish to expand on it as a remix or whatever, it’s all yours!

Judging by the time, Cyril was just about ready to wrap up work and head out for the day. He was proud of himself this evening, managing to complete a shittonne of paperwork that everyone else had left over for him. Some days, he was just productive as all Hell. That was usually the case when Archer wasn’t around to bother him. Speaking of Archer, he wasn’t in today...

THWAK!

PAFF!

BASH!

Archer’s fists made sharp, repetitive contact with the brick wall. After about five hits, he stopped to take a breath, but he wasn’t done yet. His latest bout of post-coma despairs were sending him over the edge. Archer somehow found himself in the agency’s parking garage, clad in a hoodie and sweatpants, barefoot. Since when did he wear that kind of clothing? And... did he sleepwalk here? No matter, he was in the moment, and the moment told him to rid his knuckles of any remaining flesh attached to them. He continued to hit the brick wall, each proceeding hit beginning to feel number and number. That wasn’t ideal. Archer punched harder.

CRACK!

Aaand there it was. A broken knuckle. Archer recoiled his hand sharply and laughed a dark laugh. Not done yet...

“Archer, is that you? What are you wearing?”

Archer quickly turned to the voice calling out to him. It was Cyril. Now was not a good time for Archer to be interacting with his least favourite colleague. He quickly sauntered up to Cyril, taking the man’s sweater-vest collar in his bloody hand. Cyril gasped.

“Archer! It’s just me!” Cyril said in panic. Archer stared Cyril down, eyes fiery and... watering?

“Cyril, I need you to tell me this isn’t a dream. I need you to tell me I’m not in a coma anymore” Archer said through clenched teeth, eyes welling up with tears. Cyril stared.

“W-what?” Cyril asked innocently. He was suddenly immensely concerned for Archer’s well being. Why did he find him here in the first place? Wearing what was practically pyjamas? Cyril grabbed Archer’s forearms gently as the latter began listing forward, head slowly plopping onto Cyril’s chest. Archer began sobbing. Before Cyril could reassure Archer that they were in fact, not in a dream, Archer lost his footing and crumpled to the ground. Cyril was speechless. He joined Archer on the floor, attempting to hug him before Archer could do the same. 

“Shh... it’s- it’s ok. You’re awake. You’re with me. Your friends are all here too, Archer. Well, not here per say— I mean... you get it, right? You’re not in a coma...” Cyril tried. He brought Archer closer to him when he didn’t answer. 

Archer could feel the warmth of his colleague, it was almost comforting. The dull throb of his broken and battered knuckles kept him awake, that was the whole point. He hadn’t slept in days. Maybe now.... was ideal...... to do so.............

**Author's Note:**

> I’m personally going through a lot right now, recovering from psychosis has been the worst years of my life. In times like these, I use writing and drawing to cope. I hope you can understand.
> 
> Good night everyone ❤️ - J


End file.
